Live, Love, Cry and Laugh as You Die
by KnightOfNevermore
Summary: "For a secret agent you're pretty sappy." "For a girl you're a horrible cook." A Leon S. Kennedy and Claire Redfield Drabble Collection.
1. Of Burnt Toast and Pretty Boys

Title: Of Burnt Toast and Pretty Boys

Word Count: 109

Spoilers: None.

Rating: T; for language.

Genre: Romance / Humor

Prompt: Eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow we may die.

Inspiration Song: King of Anything By Sara Bareilles; "Keep drinking coffee / Stare me down across the table / While I look outside / So many things I'd say if I were able."

A/N: WELCOME! So my quick little explanation thing first: each drabble will come from a prompt, the prompt being a popular proverb. I will try to do one every few days, definitely at least one per week. Thanks for reading, and enjoy! Oh, and Reviews are very much appreciated, and any suggestions will be taken into very deep consideration, so please Review.

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"What a beautiful view…"

"Not as good as mine."

"...Y'know, for a secret agent you're pretty sappy."

"For a girl you're a horrible cook."

"Ha! At least I'm better than you. You can't even make coffee properly."

"I don't need to... you're the only drug I need."

"Now you're just being purposely annoying, aren't you?"

"Yes. But that doesn't mean I'm lying."

"You're really, really annoying."

"But... you still love me."

"Has anyone every told you that you're an asshole, Leon?"

"Yes, I do believe I may have heard that before."

"Then they're wrong, you're an idiot."

"An idiot with a good view."

"Shut up."

"...The other day I was looking through the random pamphlets in the hospital-"

"When were you at the hosptial?"

"When am I not at a hospital?"

"Good point."

"Hem. Anyways, I discovered that in twenty out of twenty five examples, this relationship classifies as abusive."

"...Well love, you know me, I see some blond pretty-boy on the street and I just can't contain myself."

"...I am not a pretty-boy."

"Oh, hit nerve there did I- mphf! L-Leon! What are you...!"

"Proving my manliness."

"I h-hope, ahhh! I hope tha-at you-you... realize how laaaahhh-te you're go-go-going to be to work!"

"Hmph...I'm no fucking pretty boy."

"Wow... Ugh... I really hurt your feeling didn't I? ...Maybe I should call you a pretty boy again, bring out your need to express your supreme manliness a little more often. Haha."

"..."

"Did I actually just say that aloud?"

"...Yes."

"...And how are you today?"

"Oh god, I love you Claire."

"Love you too, pretty-boy. "

"...By the way Claire, I think your toast caught on fire."

"Shit!"


	2. The Thievery of a Word

Title: The Thievery of a Word

Word Count: 285

Spoilers: None.

Rating: T; for mentions of alcohol.

Genre: Angst / Romance

Prompt: The course of true love never did run smooth.

Inspiration Song: Lips of an Angel by Hinder

A/N: Well, I started off with a dose of sugar high Cleon, but as we all know, love isn't all butterflies and LSD. So in this one I present you with a taste of angst, that we all know is in the Cleon pairing, that comes from Leon's particular talent at getting women.

* * *

It rings four times before he picks up. She counts. She counts every second, every ring, and every shuddering breath escaping from her lips as she waits to hear the voice she has waited so long to hear.

His voice.

Laughter. Noise. Ceaseless chatter and the booming music of a club; it was undeniable and completely fitting.

So why does her heart sink so, when she hears the incessant beat of music and drunken laughter ringing in the background?

"Kennedy speaking."

Her breath hitches, a small inaudible gasp that whisks away every imagined scenario that had played through her mind.

Her voice remains trapped in her throat; he is so close, yet so far.

She can hear the intoxication in his voice, an almost indistinguishable slur, and the slight hum to its silky norm.

She opens her mouth to speak, and closes it abruptly. The word that has been dancing on her tongue for months dies on her lips, the sound stolen from her own, only to fall from another's.

Loud, screeching laughter. The high-pitched whine of a girl's flirtatious cackle and trill of his name on the girl's lips.

A sensuous sound that pierces her heart like a knife.

She has savored the taste of that one word on her tongue for months, sweetening with each passing day, and now when she finally has the chance to share her treasure, a girl, thousands of miles away from her, tosses it carelessly from her lips in a way Claire knew she never could.

She hangs up even before she knows what she's doing, the END button blurred in her swimming vision.

It takes all the will remaining in her fractured mind not to call back.


	3. Eternity Riddled with Blood

Title: Eternity Riddled With Blood

Word Count: 90

Spoilers: None; AU

Rating: T; for mentions of death and suicide.

Genre: Angst / Romance

Prompt: He who lives by the sword shall die by the sword.

Inspiration Song: Reach by The Butterfly Effect

A/N: Errr... yeah this took a while. It's a rather long story I assure you, but I don't want to bore you with excuses, so here is this instead. More angst because I'm an angst whore and that's my current mood. I'm also a font whore as you can tell, so I hope your eyes aren't too scarred. Read and Review please. Thanks.

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**Blood.**

_Her_ **blood**.

It was so **red**.

**Scarlet** even.

No, more like **a deep burgundy**.

It was **so bright**, **so beautiful**, _so alive_.

The **red** was _so alive_; it was _no surprise _that the **blue** was _so very dead_.

**He hopes** his blood is as red, _no burgundy_ truly, **as hers** as the cool **metal of his handgun** _presses to his forehead_.

**He hopes** that **his gray** is as _dead and dull_ as hers.

**He hopes** that they will_ always be_ like that.

**Always be** the _same_.

**Always be** _partners_.


	4. Nostalgia Soon Forgotten

Title: Nostalgia Soon Forgotten

Word Count: 229

Spoilers: None.

Rating: T; for references of sexy times.

Genre: Romance / Humor

Prompt: History Repeats Itself

Inspiration Song: My Favorite Drug by Porcelain and the Tramps

A/N: Okay. Just letting you know, I have no bloody fucking idea where this came from. I actually feel pretty messed up for writing this, but I felt a duty to post this cause the last one was really utterly sucky in the Cleon section. So enjoy, my... messed up little drabble. Read and Review, its what keeps me writing!

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She remembers the time when her mother attempted to teach her how to sew.

She remembers warm hands, a soft smile, and the prick of pain when the needle pierced her soft flesh.

She remembers the brief touch of pain, and soft kiss to make it all better.

She even remembers what she had been sewing, a lace border on one of her mothers aprons.

She remembers warmth, lips, a kiss, slight pain, and lace.

It scares Claire how much her childhood reminds of her sex life.

It really does.

Leon tells her not to worry, and then returns to whatever thing he is doing, she has no idea what it is; all she knows is that it feels _so good_.

It is not long until the memory of her mother's love is replaced with the memory of his love.

The warm heat pooling in her stomach, a sickly sweet and nauseating feeling she would never forget. The hot kisses sealing his name forever on her lips, drawing breathy moans and gasps from her lungs. The heat, _oh the heat_, intoxicating and suffocating that drew her in and locked her up, sealing her in his fiery embrace.

She could never forget her mother, but she knew that the tender touches of her childhood would soon be replaced by his touches, leaving a trail of blazing skin in their wake.


End file.
